


Stranded

by Anon6285_omo (Anonymous6285)



Series: Beatles Omorashi [47]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flying, Omorashi, Panic Attacks, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anon6285_omo
Summary: While practising their performance for Flying, George becomes aware of how scared he really is of the harnesses.
Relationships: George Harrison & Ringo Starr
Series: Beatles Omorashi [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612729
Kudos: 16





	Stranded

Ringo giggled as he swung from side to side, really testing the limits of the harnesses. The four Beatles were raised above the stage in preparation for their performance of flying. It was a great idea in theory, they all had agreed. And up until now, everything had gone great. The only issue they’d had was Ringo complaining about the harness being too small for his prick. Of course, John got a kick out of that.

“Oh, Ringo, you think you’re so cool. You know, none of us have even seen your cock, so how do we know you’re not just lying about it?”

“It’s not my problem that you all just jack off in front of each other. But you don’t get to go around asking to compare sizes--”

“That was one time,” Paul interrupted. “And you’re seriously telling me that with all the tours we’ve been on, nobody’s seen it?”

“I have,” Brian said as he walked up to them. Just as the other three gaped, he was quick to explain himself. “He got out of the shower and forgot I was in the loo. I’ve actually never seen one bigger.”

John laughed. “Like you’ve seen much to compare.”

“Oh, Lennon, I’ve definitely seen a lot more than you. But even if you are hiding something, RIchie’s is still bigger than yours.” John rolled his eyes as Paul laughed this time.

“You’re laughing, Macca? I’m bigger than you! Everyone here is! Even Georgie. Isn’t that right?” They all looked over at the guitarist to see that he had a look of pure terror written across his face.

“God, George,” Ringo muttered. “Jesus, what’s the matter? You alright?” But as the drummer got worried about him, Paul just laughed.

“Can’t you see that he’s just scared of this? I mean, for god’s sake, it’s just some rope, right?” George shrugged, trying to shake his worry away. Paul was right. It really wasn’t anything to be afraid of.

“Don’t be rude,” Brian replied. “Geo, are you sure you want to do this? I understand if it does worry you. It would worry me, too.”

“I’m fine,” the younger man forced out of his throat, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the nausea bubbling inside of him.

“If you say so,” the manager mumbled. “Alright, let’s get them up in the air.”

-

And that’s what led to the problem that George was now facing as Ringo swung from side to side in a fit of giggles. The way he swayed in the harness not only made him sick, but it made him realise how bad he had to piss. It was probably just from the stress of the situation, but either way, he knew he’d need to get down soon.

He kept his movement to an absolute minimum, and didn’t say another word, though he’d gotten a thousand times more nervous about all of this. The others didn’t seem to care, though.

“So how long are we going to be up here, anyway?” John asked with a sigh, wiggling his legs uncomfortably. 

“Calm down, John,” Paul countered. “It won’t be too long. What’s your hurry?” The older man huffed. 

“I just want to get down! I don’t like it up here!”

“Yeah, okay.” Paul eyed him carefully, and when he noticed the way John kept covering his crotch uncomfortably. Then, he got a glance at what seemed to be a rather big bulge in his pants. “John, what the hell? Are you--?”

“Piss off! It’s not my fault! This stupid harness thing keeps rubbing against me, and--”

“I have to pee!” George suddenly shouted, and everyone in the room looked over to see that he didn’t seem to be joking around. 

“You’ll be down soon,” Brian said, about to return to the paper he was looking at when the guitarist interrupted him.

“No! I need to get down right now!” His face grew more red as he noticed his friends staring.

“... Okay.” Brian started talking to the other man on the ground, but George couldn’t get over the fact that he was still hanging in the air, not moving down at all. He had embarrassed himself enough, so he thought he’d just be patient and let Brian do what he had to.

His nerves didn’t seem to get the memo, though, because he continued to shake, and before he even knew it, his breathing had become so fast, he found it hard to focus on the world around him. 

Ringo’s voice called out to him, but all he could imagine was the strings above him breaking. What if he were to fall right to the ground from this height? He might die. Then, something brought him back to reality. The quick feeling of a hot liquid rolling down his legs. His mind was too occupied to connect the dots with that and the dripping on the floor. Or the steady emptying of his bladder.

“George?” The drummer’s voice was finally getting through to him. “George, hey, look at me, love. Can you look at me?” He glanced up, and his eyes met Ringo’s. “Just try to breathe.”

“I need to get down,” he muttered. “Please get me down. I need to get down”

“Brian’s working on it. Just try to focus on staying calm. You’re almost down.” His feet then hit the ground, and his knees gave out, leaving him crashing to the ground. Ringo wanted nothing more than to be on the ground, as well, to get to his friend.

Brian got up closer to him, but he was up in seconds and running off.

“Eppy!” Paul called when the man started running after him. “Eppy, stop! Let Richie down!!” Their manager stopped to see that Ringo looked incredibly nervous, and he started to let the man down, just in time to watch him step out of his own harness and run after the guitarist.

He ran as fast as he could to where George most likely was getting through the rest of his panic attack, the toilet. When he got inside, he saw George leaning over the loo, vomit already on the floor next to him, but he seemed to be done.

“Oh, god, Georgie… Are you doing okay?”

He shook his head. “I d-don’t want to do that again. I don’t like that. I really didn’t--” He groaned in embarrassment. “Fuck…”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. We won’t make you go back up there.” George stood up, and Ringo averted his gaze, not wanting to look at his pants. 

“I don’t have any other clothes,” the guitarist admitted. “I don’t know-- what should I do?”

Ringo sighed. “I’m sure Eppy can find some. It’s not a big deal. How are you feeling, though? Do you want to go home?”

“Very much so,” he whispered. 

“Okay. Are you ready to go back out there?” George shrugged. “You can stay in here as long as you need to, love. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Thanks, Rich. Do you think you could just tell Eppy that I want to leave? I really don’t want to go out there.” His voice was wavering.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He smiled and stepped out the door.


End file.
